Sherlock Homes, meet Tom Smith
by spydalek
Summary: When Tom Smith appears in 221b Baker Street, he challenges Sherlock to deduce stuff about him. One-Shot  For now


**Sherlock Holmes, meet Tom Smith**

Sherlock Holmes, the worlds only consulting detective, was sat in his chair at his residence of 221B Baker Street. Dr John Watson had gone to pick up some milk, since Sherlock had forgotten to pick some up. "Bored!" shouted the detective, standing up. "Bored, Bored, BORED!"

And without knowing it straight away, some fun was coming his way.

* * *

Tom Smith was running, running away from an enemy more deadly than Daleks. And Daleks are very deadly! "This isn't even my universe!" he shouted, as he managed to avoid a shot from a laser gun. He ducked behind a post box and managed to spot a house. Baker Street, why did that sound so familiar? Tom dismissed any doubt and knocked on the door. A kind, caring, old woman opened the door and said "Hello? Can I help you?"

"I need some shelter." came Tom's reply, he looked behind him and added "Quickly!"

"Fine, fine." said the woman, opening the door letting Tom walk in. He quickly closed the door and ran up the stairs, towards 221B Baker Street.

* * *

The door of 221B Baker Street opened, and Sherlock, believing it to be Watson, said "Ah, John, you got the milk?"

"John? I'm not John." said Tom, the newcomer. "I'm just taking shelter."

"You've been running, running away from something." said Sherlock, without turning around.

"How did you know?" asked Tom. "And yes, I was running away from something."

"Bored now."

"I've only just got here, Holmes." said Tom, smirking. "Let's see, you're Sherlock Holmes. This is 221B Baker Street, your friend John is called John Watson. He's a doctor in the British Army, well, was, as he was wounded during the war in Afghanistan."

"Yeah, so you read the internet." said the detective. "I'm still bored."

"Right, so you want something to do? Let's see, your name is Sherlock Holmes, you're the world's only consulting detective. You can deduce anything just from looking at a person. So, let's see what you can find out about me."

"Well, you've been on Earth a few hundred years, you're over six hundred years old and you're not human."

"Anything else?"

"Nope."

"Oh, that's..." said Tom, "That's disappointing. Then again, you got everything you did deduce right. I've been on Earth one-hundred-and-forty-one years, I'm six-hundred-and-fifty-one and I'm a Time Lord. How did you work it out?"

"The first one came from the jacket you're wearing, it's very worn whereas your other clothes are brand new. The second one arrived by looking at your eyes, you look like an ordinary teenager, but your eyes tell me your older than you look. And the third thing I got when I arrived at the last thing." He smiled. "Bored again."

"If you want to stop being bored, come and help me put all this shopping away!" came a new voice, the voice of John Watson. "Or, you can just be your usual ignorant self and just sit in your chair all day." he walked into the flat and found Tom Smith stood in the doorway. "Ah, hello there. I'm..."

"John Watson." said Tom. "And I was just leaving. You didn't see a killer robot camped outside the place when you came in?"

"Yeah, there's a robot outside now." said Watson.

"Ah, guess I'll just have to use Plan B." said Tom, pulling out a golden tube from his pocket. "There doesn't happen to be a back door here?"

"Nope sorry, there's only that entrance you no doubt used." replied John.

"Oh..." he said, beat. "Guess Plan B is out. I'll just have to take my chances with the killer robot. Thanks for everything you two. I don't think I'll be seeing you again. Ever."

"You're going back to your universe." said Sherlock, mentioning something he left out earlier. "The way you talked to me, it's like you were worried about something bad happening because you were talking to me. It lead me to conclude you are from a universe where we're fictional characters."

"Of cause your fictional. I inspired the writer!" snapped Tom, as he ran out the room.

"He's almost as strange as you Sherlock." said Watson, once he heard the door bang and shots being fired.

"I take offence from that!" said Sherlock, pouting.

"Oh stop pouting, you're worse than a child!" said Watson, putting the shopping away.


End file.
